Differing Interpretations
by TimoteoMontenegroIII
Summary: Coco would like to keep her girls from picking up their grandmother's bitterness over that fateful day; but really she'd like to help her Mama too. Rivera family life.
1. Caught

A/N:Stuff from Novelization used. It's awesome and expands on stories. :D Also last names? They just use Rivera in everything I can find, but what is Julio's? Anyway

* * *

Coco Rivera pushed one of the handy shoe making stools over to use it to reach boxes on a shelf. Not boxes of shoes; well assumed not...

There was a sash she had owned that she knew her daughter would just love, and was probably at age to care for, at nine. Maybe not, but Elena was a sensible girl and sort of old for her age. Old Soul as it was called; and of course Coco couldn't be more proud.

Once able to peek, Coco rummaged around amidst boxes (as shoe makers all her family gathered up so many!) and tipped one. She righted it but not before catching a peek of shine.

Her heart all but leapt.

 _Oh right! But hadn't she tossed these?_

Coco reached the box down and, after a glance, opened the lid. Shoes. But shoes of which her mother hated and they never made. Dance shoes with steel for tapping out rhythms and to rhythms.

 _Like Papa's..._

She'd thought at sixteen when her twin uncles' absentmindedness made one too many and Coco danced for the first time in ever!

Until Mama saw her.

She had caused her own ban, no more making dance shoes, though really it was the same ban.

No Music, Dance or Joy because most of those things had left with her papa.

It was hard for all of it to leave. Julio and their two girls were blessings. And Julio and her had danced still when they met...before Mama found out and moved him to shoe making for keeping.

Mama's cat had helped there. Honestly...the thing seemed to knowing at times.

Coco did not recall saving the shoes, yet somehow they had escaped her mother purging them same as she had Hector's, and all, instruments from their home. She ran a hand along them, lost in thought.

When she heard a noise, Coco was convinced history was repeating itself and her mother catching her dreaming and hoping on foolish things again; but as her frightened eyes landed on the doorway she found, instead...

"Julio! Oh you startled me...", Coco breathed.

"Apologies, mi amor...", the stout man looked confused, but not as much as he should have been as he entered, and some sort of intuition saw him close the door of the back storage room. "Did...um...the shawl?" He half asked, but Coco of course followed. It was why she was supposed to be here. Not the dance shoes.

"No...I...I found possibly the only pair of shoes in the whole world Mama hates...", Coco smiled, at her own forgetfulness, and gave a breathless laugh, yet as she finished tears threatened for some reason and she blinked.

She knew why if she thought. _These shoes and Papa..._

Julio stepped over to look at the box and Coco came down once more. The man could have already guessed, but nodded as he saw. "Ah, dance shoes. Yes". Coco knew he was thinking of what she was. Their first meetings dancing in the plaza and when he was told the conditions of the Rivera family if he was serious about Imelda's daughter.

"Julio...", Coco's voice went very serious in its quiet, "you don't...actually like having to put all of your attention to shoes instead of the furniture you did before?". She glanced to the door after saying this as if afraid that very breach of Rivera Family Etiquette would bring repercussions. Yet given how things seemed to go, she wasn't paranoid and the cat was probably somewhere...

It wasn't, not at the moment anyway. Julio smiled and shrugged, but as his wife, Coco thought it looked forced, "Shoes. Couches, it is all the same", he didn't actually answer the question, about liking anyway. "I have just been putting all of my time to helping you and your Mama, I can make a couch soon as I feel and...when there's time". Julio and Coco both knew there would probably never be time. No, he would make shoes.

Coco glanced to the box again, "I wish I could have danced in them for you, just once", she said, but smiling, "I got up a pretty good rhythm and I know...", she broke off, not sure where she was going. _I wish we could have danced some times after our wedding too, not just the courtship._

As if reading her thoughts, Julio leaned over to deliver a small peck to Coco's cheek, "You didn't need tapping, obviously". He said no more, but still, and partly something in the brief that said so much, Coco flushed slightly yet again even this many years later.

"Well", she snapped the lid back on the box and suddenly it was like as well as husband and wife the two were secretive children hiding, well, a secret, "I shall put this back where it went and we won't tell Mama it's here".

"Won't tell Abuela what's here?" A young voice asked and Julio and Coco glanced over to see that Elena had somehow opened the door her father had just closed moments before unnoticed and now stood in the doorway.


	2. Choice

Coco took that moment, took two moments, to try to decide what to do. The box, thankfully closed, was clutched to her, but she struggled to not act too suspicious. Elena would notice that and it would just make everything worse. "M-Mija...", she still hadn't found her response, but was trying to.

Julio glanced between his two girls, and then took up the challenge. "Why, tell her how big you're getting", he scooped her up, or went to, she was getting big. Coco smiled, it wasn't going to work, but it was a valiant try and she was glad of her husband thinking so quickly.

For a moment Julio, and both of them, were given a real distraction from distracting the girl when Elena, for the first time since her father had gone for such, didn't shove him off, but wiggled aside, "Papa stop it! I'm too big". She didn't mean insult by it, just, again, was a very mature child for her age and still gave a smile after fixing at her skirts. It only did so much, though.

With all of her previous thoughts, Coco was hit with the double regret of Elena possibly putting the same to her and her own small affectionate things, and...how she'd never been given the chance to get too big to shrug off her own papa. She glanced to Julio, he was affected, of course he was, it was in the small gestures as he recollected himself, clearing his throat, "Of course, sorry Mija".

Painful as this was, the moment could have moved them all along, except Coco didn't have the presence of mind to put the box back in the gap of time she had, and Elena next noticed it still in her hand. "What's that?", she walked over.

"Just old shoes", Coco told the truth, and turned to put them away, but Elena's intrigue was only heightened. Maybe she could see how they were made and learn further skills!

"Ooh, may I see Mama!".

"No!", Coco hated how rushed her words sounded, and she would never for the world return snap for snap for her daughter's true but hurtful statement of growing big. She winced, "They...are too old". That could pass for truth. Wasn't the reasons she was so nervous, but...

"I could probably still see some of the stitches, please Mama!", Elena's small hands reached. Coco moved the box up more, looking for more reasoning. "Elena...".

"'Lena, your mother said no", Julio tried. She was such an obedient little girl this excitement of her own was unusual. Like when Coco stepped aside her own obedience to dance those few times. She had promised herself never again, but...she could keep the shoes; and above all Elena must not see them. She was too dutiful to not tell her Abuela.

"Please!"

"'Lena!"

The tip of the box-lid was gripped and the whole thing tumbled from Coco's hands, spilling open and the shoes even giving a merry tap as they fumbled free to the floor. All three paused once more. Elena bent down and picked one up. "These are dance shoes...", she glanced to her mother confused, "Abuela said we don't make dance shoes".

"No, but I kept one pair...", Coco began, "'Lena listen to me...", her pet name might help in this situation, "...I know how what I'm about to say sounds, but...you can't tell your Abuela...".

 _Deception?_ Elena looked stunned and confused. "But...".

"Your Great-Tios made some extra dance shoes, when we still made dances shoes, and I kept them, only because...because...". She couldn't tell her daughter why.

Coco let out a breath, "Remember when I fell in my slippers that time, dancing in the courtyard...?". The oddest memory to help with all this. "I promised, and I've kept, that I would never dance again, since it does bring trouble, but...I'm only keeping mementos Mija, so please, one secret from Abuela...".

She wasn't sure how much of this was fair to ask of the little girl, or if she could fully understand. She and Julio just paused, awaiting reaction as it were. Elena glanced from the box to her mother, confusion still on her face, then...she was no doubt horribly confused, Coco didn't blame her, but her heart did skip as her daughter turned and rushed from the store room, still holding the dance shoe, past her stunned father and...Coco knew where to.

"Mija!", she hurriedly set the box down and gave slight chase. Hearing Julio apologize for his lack of focus as he turned and followed also.


	3. In Deeper

Elena, as a small child, was much quicker than her parents. That and the closer Coco and Julio got to the inevitable conclusion of where she was heading, they slowed their steps collectively since it wouldn't help and would in fact make matters worse if, they went barreling into the front room like errant teens on top of what their daughter had to tell!

"I said sorry, right?", Julio asked yet again.

"Yes", Coco sighed, but not at him, "and it's not your fault, it's...oh it's all of mine! How many times does she have to tell me...".

Julio frowned, and felt a tinge. He wanted, for all the world, to reassure that his wife's own dreams were not silly, and shouldn't be smothered, but...this had been an issue before he came along, and even Coco had admitted to why. Her unshakable faith could be seen as childish naivete, but...it helped keep Julio from being too hard on Hector himself and having the story just from his mother-in-law.

When the two reached the main room, where a break was being had amidst the work in the shop, and something Coco herself should have been savoring, chatting with her mother and sister-in-law (who were shown to be in the room with Elena now), the cat instantly blocked their way as if helping the girl. Coco sighed at it and shooed it aside. Julio pressed against the opposite door frame a bit as he entered; he was more than a bit afraid of the constant Rivera companion.

"Mama...I", Coco saw the dance shoe in her mother's hand as she entered, and knew all was up. She broke off whatever else was coming. Imelda regarded her and then the shoe again. Her expression was unreadable and that was not a good thing. Behind her, Rosita looked a mix of concerned and sympathetic. The lecture after whistling last week might have had something to do with it, but she was also just very caring and very caring of her sister-in-law; and nieces.

"Elena says these were in a back store room. I was just explaining again that we do not make such shoes", Imelda said matter-of-factly. Not assuming or criticizing, but laying her rule firm as ever. She had never confiscated the shoes, just made it clear Coco wasn't to dance in them. Them or the slippers in her hideout... _no one must know of those then._

Coco flinched inwardly at the thought of secrets from her family, of...causing more hurt on top of...

"Mija...", Imelda's voice drew Coco back to the present, "I was just saying maybe it would be best you went by the donation bin on your way...".

"No!", it wasn't said harshly, more panic-stricken, and fished out what Imelda might have been casting for. Though she probably just did want the shoes that kept showing up too much out of her sight and mind. She retracted, and frowned suspiciously.

"Perdón...?".

Coco saw Rosita tense behind Imelda, could feel Elena shifting her gaze. In front of either of them, but mostly Elena, was not the time for this. She glanced down, and regrouped her thoughts. "I...was just thinking...maybe...", she met her mother's gaze, saw the hard warning there. The fear though only someone without that emotion would ever call out such to Imelda Rivera. Coco tried a small smile, "They're...a part of...my childhood too...j-just as a...reminder of the good with...".

"There is nothing good in such...frivolous waste of...no", Imelda was her own firm, though the words came off calmer, and handed the shoes out, with a disdain as if they represented Hector himself. They did after all...

"Take them to the bin, mañana", Imelda went on. Coco bit her lip.

"Coco", Imelda awaited obedience and proof of her daughter's agreeing as she still held the shoes out. Coco searched her mother's face, looking torn. Of course she understood! Yet at the same time...no...she did not! Her mother was denying a lot of things and it wasn't good for any of them maybe.

"Mama...", maybe Imelda caught some of what her daughter was about to say in her look, because she stalled the question written there by turning instead to her son-in-law who already was wishing to disappear

"Julio. The bin". She plopped them, and a very very hard position, into his hands. Rosita's further sympathetic look showed it.

"M-Mama Imelda...", Julio tried to explain, to deny this responsiblility, but Imelda just strode from the room.


	4. Hard Decisions & Memories

Julio had been staring at the dance shoe in his hand for the past five mintues. Both Coco and Rosita knew it had been five mintues, as they stood there, or about. The man _had_ atleast distractedly plopped back to sit on the couch in the room, rather than remain standing, but little else about his position had changed.

"Julio, are you alright?", Coco sounded understanding, and would have sounded more amused, if she weren't so concerned. She glanced to the door one more time; right after her mother left, she had pondered following, and if she should, or stay and help her husband through his tough position.

Imelda would shrug off her help, and wanted to be alone, though, she knew, so she was doing better here. Especially considering Elena needed her too. As she stood there, with her Tia Rosita smoothing a hand over her hair, the poor girl looked like she didn't know what she had just done, and if it were good or bad, since she didn't. She needed reassurances her mother wasn't mad now more than ever probably, but would hardly move herself.

"Elena, Mija, come here", Coco next bent and held open her arms, still listening for if Julio was going to answer. Elena rushed over, her young voice finally voicing her confusion, "I...I'm...sorry?". _She wasn't even sure if she was._

Coco shushed her soothingly, hugging her close, "It's alright Mija...", her next words stalled unsurely, did she try to explain? It would require possibly saying that the girl's grandmother was wrong...or not quite right...and Coco wasn't sure if that was fair.

"Y-your Abuelo...", she began unsurely, but she'd already messed up. Elena stiffined, and stood back to stare at her mother bewildered, then a frown that never belonged on her sweet girl's face took over, "Abuela says he's nothing of ours! _Diablo!_ ", she semi-spat, verbally anyway. One of a million words Imelda had put to her run-away husband directly or indirectly.

"Mija no...", Coco rushed, trying with all she had to make it not sound like a correction or criticism. She paused, pushing hair back out of her daughter's face and staring sadly into her dark eyes. _How did she explain..._

"My...Papa...he...I don't know why he didn't ever come back...but I know he loved us...", Coco glanced to the door after saying this, thinking on her mother. She knew Imelda didn't believe this, hence what Elena had said, and honestly couldn't say she herself wasn't just clinging to childish dreams but...

"The gato is staring at me...". Julio had snapped out of his internal debate to notice this. Coco rose and saw he was right, the ever present stray/Mama's cat sat at the other end of the room watching Julio, tail lazily swishing.

Coco walked over and picked it up. "Come on you, out".

It felt like a presence left with the cat, as Coco gently set it on the other side of the door, Elena rushing out after to either pet it or check on her Abuela. _Just as well...someone should._

A differing, anticipatory, kind of presence fell as Coco turned again to Julio and Rosita and came over to also sit on the couch, and take the hard decision out of her husband's hands, since she had foolishly put it there in the first place. "It's alright Julio, hand it over, I'll...I'll take them out of the closet tomorrow". Coco was aware that sentence was a vague cheat.

 _And put them where?_

Still holding the shoe, Julio glanced to her, and looked more miserable, if that was possible! "I-I'm suppose to help you", he began, rising, "and if you want them back in the closet where they were...".

What he was saying was dangerous! And of course no man wanted to say he would (from fear no less!) take his mother-in-law's side over his wife's! Yet...all of this was not that simple.

"Julio...", Coco rose and smiled, "it's appreciated, really, but I won't have you sideways with Mama. Here...", she stepped over and took the shoe herself, her husband looking so deflated! She gave him a quick peck to the cheek to reinforce her words and reassurances. She then glanced to the shoe again.

As if reading her thoughts, and Coco wouldn't put it past her sister-in-law, Rosita stood, speaking for the first time since just watching the family drama unfold and not knowing what to say; not that she wasn't still at a slight loss. "Oh Coco...are you sure?".

"I have little choice", Coco answered honestly.

Rosita paused a few more moments, but...Imelda...and the cat...weren't here...

"What...what was your favorite thing about him?", she asked hesitantly, wondering, on the story no one told, and her sister-in-law's life.

"Rosita...", Julio didn't exactly reprimand, but he did cut in.

"No, it's alright", Coco rushed, then pondered, "...I...I don't know", she answered, "I was so young...his voice probably, since that's the one thing that's easiest to recall...when he sang...".

Rosita sighed, but held in the words she probably wanted to say, about it all being unbearably sad...since it was, and there was no sense in upsetting her sister-in-law, her own h _ermana._


	5. Stories

Even on her way to check on her girls and tucking them in, Coco's thoughts went back to her mother. She should check up, she knew, even if Elena had. Elena was just a sweet little girl, she didn't know all of what was upsetting her Abeula. _Was honestly forming wrong opinions..._

Coco shut this thought down. It wasn't fair. Mama had a reason to say what she did...

 _"I know you couldn't have done any of the terrible things she says though..."_ , the young woman whispered to the empty hallway and a father that wouldn't hear her. Honestly, she'd considered he was dead many times over. _Why else..._

"The noises continued...", Coco caught Julio's voice as she neared the girls' shared bedroom.

 _Another made up bedtime story..._

Coco walked in but only as far as the door frame, leaning against it and listening.

"...and so, I decided that I was the only hope your Tía Rosita had!", Julio went on, to two wide-eyed little girls, but with light suspicion in their sensible eyes. "...She was still over in the corner, hugging Princessa...", Coco had forgotten if Princessa had been a kitty or stuffed animal, but this escapade was from the two's childhood she recognized from what her sister-in-law had said. "I pushed back the couch and...".

"Papa, you couldn't have pushed back a whole couch", Victoria challenged in her small voice. _Poor Julio...it was the day to correct him!_

Coco recognized things were not always about her own inner problems and dance shoes.

Victoria noticed her watching in the doorway. "Mama! Papa's making stuff up again! mentir".

"Now Victoria", Coco entered, "if your father says he moved an entire couch when he was only Cinco años de edad, he moved an entire couch", the doubt was in her own voice, though she didn't let the girls hear it.

"Gracias...creo", Julio said with a light frown at the end. Victoria and Elena giggled.

Coco smiled, "Can the story of the vicious Behind the Couch animal wait until tomorrow?", she tried to get the girls closer to a normal bedtime.

"No!", two young voices protested, and Julio might have lowly added to it...

Coco lightly chuckled, they would challenge their father on every detail, but wanted to hear it. That was her Elena and Victoria. "Well then I'll say my goodnights now", she went over and gave each girl a kiss, noting the light frown that came to her husband's face as Julio was left out, and not commenting to it. Elena at least was getting to the age that she understood what slight, still discreet comments meant. With a smile to her husband that told him not to be silly or childish, she just left the room...and decided she had one more family member that needed her presence.

* * *

"Mama...? Can I come in?", Coco lightly rapped against the door frame, surprised to find the door open honestly. Imelda sat at her vanity, tying her hair up for nighttime securing; well or had been, she was currently paused mid-way, lost somewhere. She turned, coming out of a memory, Coco realized as her eyes landed on her daughter.

"Coco...yes, of course", she cleared her throat and turned back to the mirror. "Is everything alright?" she asked in her typical, Matriarch Checking the Shop voice.

 _I don't know...is it?_

"Yes...", Coco answered, taking a seat on the edge of her mother's bed. "Julio's putting the girls down, and I know Rosita will turn in after reading her latest book", she smiled fondly at her romantic sister-in-law and her Happy Ending but Sad Middle ballad type stories she was drawn to. Imelda made a non committal hum.

Even that was probably too close.

"And I...also...wanted to apologize", Coco's hands twisted in her lap. Her mother gave her her full attention in the mirror.

She cleared her throat again, "There's no need", she answered simply but caring, and didn't mention the shoes again, since she had already delivered her directive. A silence spanned.

"Are you alright?", Coco finally asked.

"Oh of course", Imelda answered quickly. The cat came over and rubbed against Imelda's legs. Coco glanced to it. Her. "Mama...how old is Pepita anyway? She seems...to have always been around".

"You know I don't honestly know", Imelda answered glancing down to the cat, "for all I know the Pepita we first knew has been handing her own mantel to her children and we never knew it". Both woman chuckled over this.

"Well people would know if I pretended to be you", Coco said.

"Oh of course they would, especially if I showed up two minutes later".

This was a good moment, so Coco didn't know why she felt the need to ruin it.

"I know...we think differently...and...I know he never meant to hurt us", she said softly. Imelda didn't catch on at first.

"Coco, Pepita's a she a-", then Imelda did. She went back to brushing, a bit stiffly, "I don't feel like discussing this now".

"Then when...?", Coco lightly challenged, softly, sadly, "Mama...I'm thinking of _you_. It...can't be good, pretending...we...we only want to...".

The brush slammed down, and Coco stopped. Imelda took a moment of her own, taking in and then letting out a slow breath. "I understand that you were only four...and...naive then...".

"Mama that's not...".

Imelda held up a hand, "He didn't look back, Coco, do you understand what I'm telling you? You didn't see it, you were in your room, humming that-", Imelda _went_ to condemn the song, but didn't, "...I had hoped when you grew up, you'd see things clearer".

Coco glanced down, "The letters promised...", she still clung to her faith, but was done arguing; her mother wouldn't accept it, that had been clear for a while, but she'd had to try again. Again for Imelda's own sake.

"And his words before!", Imelda spat out, "he broke all of those, ¡Estúpido! ¡Egoísta!...", she noticed the tears forming on her daughter's cheeks, and halted her words. _All these years...she's not going to change her mind...her faith._

Imelda came to realize this herself. Coco held a stubbornness of her own. The older woman sighed, she couldn't make Coco forget Héctor, as she'd thought best at first. She stood, coming over to stand before her daughter, "Ven aquí cariño...", she hugged Coco to her, as if she were still four. Of course she put all of this hurt on Héctor too; refused to think it was any fault of her own stubbornness. It all stemmed from his initially.


	6. Carry Over

When Julio _and_ Rosita both glanced to her way too many times during breakfast, Coco realized the question that was burning in their minds. _The shoes...did she?_

They were secured, with her other slippers, in the hide out. Coco had continued to ponder it the entire rest of the night after leaving her mother, and knew she was running a risk if Imelda asked after the donation workers and their bins, but...she just had to trust her mother felt the subject dealt with enough that she would not ask.

 _Julio was supposed to be the one dropping them off...so she really should let him in on the secret...in case he took Mama's ire._

She would tell him, she decided, next time she got a chance. She just hadn't since deciding this morning to stash them there, and now was _not_ the time. Along with the amount of other things she ran, Imelda was still in charge of the collective family dinner table, and came by spooning more Chilaquiles before anyone even had the chance to ask or miss it on their plates, before expertly settling herself to both enjoy the lively conversation and watch the table. _Well, there was a distinct subdudness to the conversation right now_.

Coco strove to push past, and possibly even erase it, "So, Rosita, I passed Señora Flores yesterday, and she said to tell you no rush on the loaning of your book, whenever you finish it she'll come by, even if it doesn't coincide with the shoe order of hers".

"Oh but I'm sure I'll be done by then!", Rosita answered, "I just have to find out if Gonzalo gets moved to his tío's fields before he can confess his feelings!".

This time, and with more information on the book, Imelda scoffed, "What nonsense, and when did they set this one?".

"1880", Rosita answered. Imelda had not been alive then, unless it was closer to the end of the decade, of course, but still rolled her eyes and was sure they got things wrong. She would have commented on how this silly romance probably wouldn't have even got off the ground if Gonzalo's tío had wanted him in the fields. He'd have gone to the fields if that was the case, not hung about, but she did not feel like even remotely getting on such a topic, and especially after last night.

Coco, understanding, moved the conversation to an easier flow of Señora Flores' shoes and material. It was during this, and while the family found their easy rhythem on what they knew about, and discussed their differing roles, Coco having the least to say just because to her it was a chore like any other, that the sound reached their ears.

 _Oh no..._

Coco flinched sympathetically at the first tune. A band of at least three perhaps, but the trumpet had grabbed attention first with it's loud cry. Mama was at the door, flinging still safe for children's ears reprimands and threats and shoes in a heart beat, she was so familiar with this reaction.

Victoria was the first to notice it, as the trio rushed past the open door from Mama Imelda's angle of going out to meet and chase them off. "That's Ricardo Flores, he gave me Helado money last week", she said, just in comment, and of course this was before even she knew he was a no good musician her Abuela would be against. Coco and Rosita instantly frowned, knowing what was coming.

"Mama...he was nice to Victoria...maybe...don't...", Coco turned, as if to impart some logic. Rosita too, for the sake of her books and just friendship, gaped, but couldn't force her words out, especially as Julio subtly shook his head.

Imelda only glanced sharply over, and both women stopped even this. the matriarch sat before going on. "Of course I'm not going to cancel a sale I already agreed to, our word in our bond, but...I may ponder future requests...I won't have _Rivera Shoes_ on that young trouble maker...Victoria, you tell him no thank-you if he offers again.".

Coco and Rosita shared a look of sympathy before Imelda could catch it. Sympathy for the poor boy _and_ their business. Coco also reached over to run a hand through her perhaps confused little girl's hair.


	7. Seeds Always There

Two weeks after all of this...discussion on the set up of the Rivera household and Business, and words that had not needed repeating for their being way over stated before, things seemed to be returning to their usual normal. Coco had, of course, told her husband she had not donated the shoes, and would have told him where she put them, except he said that alone was enough, and silently and supportively kept the secret.

Imelda, thankfully, didn't check up; having far too many shoe orders to oversee and do.

The Flores' still kept up their patronage, until the crossroads Coco had expected, and Imelda ultimately declined an order of shoes for Ricardo. It was too soon to know, but Coco felt they wouldn't see the family at their door again, as customers anyway.

That was why Coco was surprised when she passed through the market, getting things for the household and Mama specifically as she was not feeling up to it (because the local talent show was setting up in the plaza again), to see Young Ricardo Flores seated on a bench, either recently un-shoed foot in her Tío Oscar and Felipe's hands, and her two uncles measuring. Victoria, currently under their care, stood nearby, watching, with a Helado.

Coco smiled and walked closer, "Is this...business or...shaking down?", she asked lightly.

The two's swap off she had long ago become fluent in (mostly fluent) started up, started by Oscar.

"The muchaco bought Victoria another Helado"

"Before we knew what was what", Felipe added.

"Or could stop him"

"So we are paying back"

"Unofficially"

"With a shoe _repair_ "

"Imelda doesn't have to bother with"

"And which is not _selling_ "

"Exactly"

"But more".

Coco held up a hand, laughing, "Alright, I get it, and won't tell", her eyes sparkled. Her family had more than one secret, and that seemed to be something that would never truly let up she was realizing. "But why the measuring if...it's a repair?", she gave Ricardo her most sorry look for what he had to endure first from her mother and now uncles. The boy, still in his teens, just grinned back.

 _He kind of resembled how Papa might have looked when younger, in certain ways that had more to do with essence than relation_.

Maybe a double reason for her mother's refusal.

"He ruined both the heel and front"

"and we're pretty much starting from scratch"

Came the answer. Coco nodded, only they could defend how that still made it a _repair_. She then glanced to Victoria still just quietly eating her ice cream and doing the smartest thing, not commenting. She put an arm around her daughter's shoulder to lead her back towards the house, "Well gracias, Ricardo" she nodded to the teen to still help her daughter after being pursued with a shoe, if not hit, and now having to deal with her twin tíos for his good deed.

The boy just nodded, "De nada, and it was my fault, I...should have known...your mother's...rule...and arm is...a legend in the neighborhood" he answered carefully. Coco just smiled again and lead Victoria on, effectively relieving her uncles of duty, and letting them focus on Ricardo and his shoes. Victoria actually taking the helado from the musician to have bought it for her was such a small thing, but she was proud of her girl in a way. Of course she'd never tell her Abeulita, and Coco wouldn't spill the secret either.

All families were meant to have small, little secrets anyway, weren't they? Like dance shoes, and helado, probably never _actual_ music. Coco didn't know how anyone would get away with that, dancing had been hard enough.


End file.
